Waiting

Here in the winter I stand, alone.
The chilling mist eases into the sleeping trees
blown through frosted riverbeds of stone
by wind from the frozen and churning seas.
Alone stand I in the winter here,
listening to the prowling of hunters drawing near.

Everything changed after she went away.
The sun followed her and the summer died.
There is only night and the Moon to say,
“I am her absence deep inside.”
away she went and it changed everything;
no day would come, no birds would sing.

In my freezing night the prowling grows.
Heartbreak and Loneliness lurk on feline feet.
Loneliness purrs to the pain Heartbreak sows
padding softly beneath the cover of night times sheet.
In the growing prowling the night is freezing,
as the cold in my bones is slowly easing.

Crying out, me against the blowing cold,
“I hate her, I wish I’d never met her, never loved her.”
I watch my lies floating, through shadows rolled,
into the mouths of my watching hunter.
Cold blowing against me I’m crying,
the tears freezing in the air slowly dying.

The Moon fades above, lending a little light.
With the encroaching dark the feline hunters grow.
I don’t know how much longer I can fight.
I need her to return with the sun to clear the shadow.
The light little fading from the Moon.
I hope she comes back soon.

The Hunters circle,
the circled Hunted
as the Moon fades
and skin becomes rigid.
Stone is safer that skin
with just the absence within.